District 2 Dancer
by missauthor13
Summary: The Hunger Games in which Clove's best friend is sent instead. She works hard, playing to win, not just survive. Every player has their own secrets, and it's hard to compete when your fellow tribute is against you. But will hate turn to love. Only time will tell, and time is limited in the Games. I don not own the hunger games, only my original character.
1. Chapter 1

Hazel POV

My eyes fluttered open, I stare at the blue blackout curtains. I sighed as I realized what day it was, the reaping day. I rolled over, wanting to fall back to sleep, its still dark out. But I rolled off my cot, and fell to the cold, cement floor. I reached up and grabbed my pillow, and weakly pulled it to me. Not wanting to slip out of my sleep stupor.

I lay my head on the rough, pillow case. Not caring that my dirty blond hair sat covering my face. Not caring that I would have to get up at some point today for the reaping. I slipped slowly back into the dream world. The world that my mother and father roam freely in. The world that I can live in with my family. Sitting around a warm fire listing to the happy stories of my parents when they were younger. I smiled my small smile at the thought of my mother's soft beautiful face; my father's oh too recognizable 5 o'clock shadow of stubble.

When I woke, the early morning sun shined through an opening in my curtains, but no birds chirped outside my window. Not like they do other mornings. But this is the reaping day, even though this is district 2, and here it is supposed to be a happy event. Some, many, still take it sadly. I, Hazel Rose, take it not as a holiday, but as a death-date.

I got up, my muscles waking as I walked. I pulled on some shoes, a pair of capris, and my mother's old leather jacket. I walked out to the market place. I bought an apple, and walked out to Floras. I bought was affordable, a half a loaf of bakery bread, some strawberrys, and a small closed thermos of beef stew. I paid and left. As you walk through town, you could see kids and their families getting ready for the reaping. Dressing up in their best clothes, acting like their actually impressing the capitol. Its not our people that impress them. Its our shipments that they want, or our people to be peacekeepers. Or for our deaths to come. I know some of the kids down this street, although you could hardly call them kids, the age range of teens living on this street is from 14, to19. All big and tall, and burly and built. There's Clove, an old Combat ally. And her neighbor and current combat partner Cato, living 4 houses down. Clove ran through the door when she saw me out the window.

"Hey", she said like she had been longing to see me, "I haven't seen you in ages, Hazel. Where are you hiding these days?"

"The old house", it isn't easy to talk to her, not since I pulled away from her. As a person, as a friend, as a nearly sister. Clove read the expression upon my face, knowing me the way she does, she came out and hugged me tight. It felt good to have my best friend here, my only friend. She is truly the only person I have, whether we know each other to the core, or not. "Hazel?" she asked me, I looked at her, "can you do my hair? I'll help you get your stuff done" I shook my head yes, knowing that Clove took care of herself, she was a latchkey child, much like I am. We walked home, catching up just a bit. I heard a lot of how Cato was so much like her brother.

We got back to the house and I got out my bobby pins, hairbrush, and hair ties. I love how long her hair is, I've always wanted to have hair this long, you could practically do anything with it. I love it when she has it in a Fish Tale braid, so I braided her hair in a fish tale. Her hair is a black/brown, so I added blond strands of silver ribbon and a small pinch of glitter. Just the way Clove always asked me to. After that, I knew that Clove wanted me to do her cosmetics after. Clove can't do the angel look, so she has me do it for her. I do make up a secret family trade way, so I wont tell you how.

By the time I'd finished with her, about a half an hour had passed. The Reaping start at noon, and the time now was 11:00. Clove shuffled around in her dark purple dress, warming a bit of water for me to bathe in. After I bathed I found Clove waiting for me with my cosmetics, Hair tools and clothes. I dressed in the black dress I have worn since I was old enough to understand what happened to my mother. Its at least changed a little bit over time but this black dress, is a mourning garment. Clove tied the back string as tight as possible, half restricting my breathing. But I don't say anything, I never did. She can do the smokey eyes like no other, and I can't. So she gave me an insane smokey eye. Clove put my elbow length hair into a ballerina bun with a small part of my hair put over to the side and crimped ever so slightly. Finally, I got a pair of black two inch half stiletto heels. By the time I was finished, it was 11:55. I took one quick look in the mirror; I look a lot like I did last year, but with a few new things. I was taller, visibly thinner, and my face looked more mature, kind of…prettier…..in a way. But I don't have time to think about beauty, I have to get to town square before the reaping starts.

Clove and I tried to run, but in these heels it's pretty much impossible. So we walked as fast as we could, occasionally taking a small crash. And cleaning off our dresses while we walked. The last few people were entering the boxed off squares. Clove and I have just made it. We walked over to the table with the blood scanning peacekeeper.

"You must be…Clove and Hazel, correct?", she asked

I shook my head and handed her my finger, wincing as it was pricked for blood. Clove and I walked over to the correct area for girls. She was mouthing to someone while the backstory video was beginning. I nudged her with my elbow, "talking to your boyfriend?".

"Cato actually", she whispered, I locked eyes with her, and we both leaned back a little bit. A tall buff, blond guy about 17, 18 years old was watching us with an eyebrow raised.

"That's Cato?", it makes sense, most guys in District 2 are pretty big, at least 5 foot each. But most the guys I've known that Clove trained with were kind of small, weaklings from poorer families. Clove mouthed my name to Cato, he looked me up and down and nodded. Did he just check me out? That's a bit awkward, yep, awkward. I sent a small nod his way, my distant way of saying hello. He nodded back, well I have an acquaintance now, wonderful.

The video ended moments later. Regina Malon pranced up onto the stage. "Hello then District 2", she greeted, "welcome to the 74 annual Hunger Games. Well then let's jump right into it, Ladies first.". Malon dropped her hand into the huge glass bowl, mixing around the name slips until she finally picked the female tribute. A million thoughts began to run through my mind. What if it was Clove, or Me? What would happen to us?

"Where is a one Hazel Rose?", she said, my eyes widened a moment then went back to scowling. I crossed my arms and took a look at Clove before walking through the small open pathway to the stage. I unhappily scowled at the crowd. I kinda tuned out for the rest of it, until Malon called out Cato's name. My eyes widened for a second, then shrunk once more, time to find out who Cato is.

They took us to the Justice Building, I was sat down on a red velvet couch, marble floors, and other beautiful expensive looking items. No one came to see me, just a letter from Clove.

Hazel,

My mother refused to let me come see you. She doesn't want having to 'deal with a dumb idiot of a tribute'. She's idiotic, Cato isn't always the most trusting, especially if you tick him off, which would be very likely for you. Take these, you forgot them at the house and I remembered to pick them up before I left. You can win this, trust in your mom, trust in me, you can win. Im rooting for you, im rooting for Cato too, but you have a slightly better chance. You can manipulate the crowd, don't give up. I know your smart and you have strategy. So burn this letter when you finish reading it. I trust you, believe in you, Hazel Persephone Rose, you can win the Hunger Games. – Clove

I found some matches and set the letter aflame. I have to win, I have to win for my mom, Clove, my Dad, for me.


	2. Chapter 2

Hazel POV

I didn't like the train ride, it wasn't pleasant. I sat in a chair in the corner of the room alone again, naturally. I leaned over and reached for a cup and the scotch. But just as I was about to pour the scotch into my glass, a deep voice cleared their throat. I looked up to see Cato, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, staring down at me. "And what do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" I said, offended

"I'm kidding, can't you take a joke?", Cato laughed as he sat himself down in the chair in front of me, propping up his leg on his other knee.

I stared at him, and poured the scotch into my glass and took a sip. I almost gagged, I put the glass and scotch back and ran my hand over my hair, smoothing it down. I looked out the window, every tree looked the same, and you wouldn't have thought we'd moved an inch by the scenery.

"You know, Clove was scarily accurate about you", Cato said quietly, he doesn't know how to talk to me. It's evident in the strain in his voice.

"Yeah? And what did she say?"

"She said you were quiet. Anti-social, and nearly un-noticeable.", he shrugged

I looked up at him, "nearly? With all the people in Panem, I figured someone like me wouldn't be noticeable period."

Cato smiled and looked down, "yes nearly, someone like you stands out around here. You wore black to the reaping. It's a tell-tale sign you're not like most district 2 girls"

"Yeah well, I'm not like most girls period. What did you mean when you said someone like me? I know what I meant when I said it, but what about you?"

Cato smiled again, "I meant the kind of person that's been thrashed so much, that they have no more pity for anyone, probably not even for themselves. They keep quiet, private, they pull away from everyone and anyone. They keep themselves isolated so that they can't be hurt anymore, they can't hurt anyone else. They have no life to carry on with, they hole up, and don't let anyone in. their protected and barred, barricaded with walls so thick and high that not even the capitols strongest men could put a scratch on it." Cato paused for a moment, looking at his hands. I stared straight forward, right at him. His words had truth to them, madding me feel pain and sadness. But it wasn't all true, I do still have pity, and feeling, the numbness in my life is a kind of feeling.

I stood and looked down at him; he looked up at me, eyes knowing that he just put his foot in his mouth.

"Cato, you act like you know me. Like you know who I am, the things I've done the things that have happened in my past. That's cute, that's_ really_ cute. You have no idea. And you know what? I do still pity people, very few people. For those who are like me, that have the mark I do."

I started to walk away when he said, "You know she talks about you, Clove does, and she talks about you a lot, all the time. How she misses you, how she wishes things could have been different"

I chuckled, "well you know, it's not like you would know what she was talking about. Clove knows better than to talk about that to anyone but me. And if you did know about it, well then I'm afraid that I'd have to kill you, in the arena, or right here right now". Cato snickered to himself, although i had a dead straight face.

"You really think that you could take me? A little thing like you? I'd doubt it; I'm 3 times your size"

I smirked, "and 4 times my body weight. Have fun getting into shape there fat boy." With that, I left; I didn't know where I was going. I walked back towards the end of the train farther and farther until I reached the very back. Out the door, and I was standing on a small platform, a rail in front of me to prevent jumping and suicide casualties. It was nice, wild winds blowing across my face. I thought about the ballet slippers in the small burlap sack in my hand. I wondered about my parents, what my mother would do. With her beautiful, short, sweet, blond hair, her kind brown eyes that could make your heart melt. My father, with his black eyes so harsh youd be a fool to cross his path.

Chapter 3

Hazel POV

The Capitol was the same as always. Horrible, even though were not supposed to say that kind of thing out in public. Especially here, in the capitol, the capitol of the 12 districts and the lies spread by its president. When I had arrived they whisked me away to be striped of nearly all my hair, and be trimmed up for beauty. It disgusts me, how I have to look good for people to envy me so that I can keep my life. So, after all the 'pampering' I was given, I left for my room. Well, it's not _my_ room, no; my room is back in district 2, In the house I grew up in. I layed in bed for a while, till night fall. Then I showered trying to occupy my mind till I meet some of the people responsible for my presence here. After finding some somewhat dark clothing, I walked out to find Cato and our stylist reviewing the reaping's from the other districts. No doubt checking out the competition. I watched for a while, as a young girl named Rue from District 11. The other was Thresh, huge, built, definitely a threat is he means to harm. The last district finally came, the boy tribute went over easy, Mellark I think. But the female tribute however, now that was another story, a young girl. The same age as Rue, long blonde hair, wearing a white blouse and a skirt. Primrose Everdeen, was her name, I couldn't bear the thought of another young 12 year old in the games. But then something amazing happened, something that hasn't happened in years, a volunteer. About 16 years of age, tall, dark hair. The little girls older sister, being what she should be, doing what she should do, protect her sister. It's an honorable thing to do, and it'll probably get her killed, but still I give her my respect for that. Apparently Cato didn't agree, although my presence was still unbeknownst to him and the others.

"What an idiot! She sacrificing herself for a kid, she's going to get herself killed. Maybe I'll make one of the others kill her, im not going to waste my energy on someone so reckless with her life. At least that's one definite kill.", he stated, shaking his head

Anger bubbled inside me, "then you are a stupid idiot yourself. You wouldn't know bravery or honor if it slapped you across the face." I raved. Cato's head snapped around faster than you could say 'stupid idiot'.

He stood and stared at me, anger simmering on his face. I stood my ground, hands balled into fists, my nails dug into my palms. I kept my face blank, but allowed my eyes to glare in hate of his dumb, ignorant, remark. Cato matched my glare easily, advancing on me, an angry pep in his steps.

"what did you just say to me? you really must be some stupid, silent, invisible girl, huh?", he said. the stylists walked out of the room, or ran, more like it. But got out of the way of our cruel, verbal war. In merely a few moments, this had transformed from a small rain storm, into a raging hurricane.


End file.
